


The Empty House

by Pokimoko



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (if this ever updates it's because I'm editing sorry), Absent Mothers, Adorable Jack Kline, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Wings, Castiel (Supernatural) Lives, Castiel Forgives Himself, Castiel Loves Humanity, Castiel and Jack's Relationship, Correlates to most events in 'The Big Empty', Dean Winchester Is Not a Total Dick, Emotional Baggage, Familial Love, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guardian Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Guilt, Guilty Jack Kline, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jack Has Issues, Jack Kline Learning to Cope, Jack Kline Needs A Hug, Jack Kline did nothing wrong, Jack and Cas Meet, Noncanon Reunion Scene, One Shot, POV Castiel, POV Jack Kline, Poor Jack Kline, Protective Castiel, Resurrection, Reunions, Season/Series 13, Set during and after s13e04, Slight canon change, Team Free Will, Team as Family, The Empty, They aren't really in it that much though, Winchesters are Parents, Written before and after s13e04 aired, all the emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 08:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12626772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokimoko/pseuds/Pokimoko
Summary: Castiel knows what it is to die. He has met his end many times over his long life, and yet his story had continued, unperturbed by death. The realm of darkness and nothingness, however, seemed to be persistent in ending it once and for all. It was a paradise of nothing, a place Castiel could stop making mistakes, and finally rest, as the realm wished him to. Castiel might've complied, if it were not for the intervention of the boy with golden eyes.Jack knows what it is to lose someone. He wished he could say it was because of some greater force, but that would be a lie. They were all gone because of him. And, the Winchesters, however kind they were, still treated him like he was dangerous. They weren't and couldn't be the father he'd lost, or be replacements for his mother. Sadness and guilt plagued him, and his young heart trembled under the weight of his wrongdoings. Jack might've succumbed, if it were not for the intervention of the angel with blue eyes.(Two lost souls find their way together.)





	The Empty House

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this happened.  
> The ending of 'Patience' left me quivering in excitement, so I wrote a coda for it. But then I didn't finish it in time, and 'The Big Empty' came out and pretty much screwed with how I planned to end the story. Fortunately, my writing heart wouldn't give up too easily, and I managed to work the new information into the story, and then some.  
> This will probably prove to be incredibly incorrect. I don't care. (And you know what's even better: I don't care that I don't care.) Jack and Cas haven't even met but I really, really want them to have a close, familial bond, and so I wrote it. I also wrote two reunion scenes because why the hell not? I'm impatient. I'm sure the show will do a delighful scene of Team Free Will being reunited again, and Jack and Cas meeting, but until then, I'll stick with what I'm hoping is along the lines of what will happen. 
> 
> This story deviates a little from canon, but only a little. And if you ignore the slight changes, it fits easily into the events of and following 'The Big Empty'. The timeline is kind of screwy in the story. I'm not certain how time works in the Empty, but I'm making it slower than Earth time. Cas' canon conversation with the Comic Entity|The Empty isn't written in here, but then I'd be rehashing the episode, so just substitute it in there where I haven't written it. Overall, I wanted to focus on Cas and Jack's bond, and their individual emotions, so some things are kind of vaguely mentioned. 
> 
> Anyone, I hope you enjoy this. Any mistake is my own.

The void spanned on perpetually in every direction, an expanse of nothingness painted across unseen horizons and non-existent stars. The Empty was created merely to harbour non-existence, and it fulfilled this, for the world held nothing but nothingness itself, and the remains of the dead, all locked in an eternal sleep.

And yet, a forlorn figure lay awake in its midst, a solitary piece of awareness. The being was colourful, made of tans and blues and whites that the realm was without. The being’s heart thrummed an agitated beat as he woke from his dreamless slumber with a sharp breath, disturbing the world’s only possession: silence. The realm’s desolation had shattered as soon as he awoke in its clutches, disrupting its slumber. The Empty watched with bitter, yet calculating eyes as the being awoke, waiting patiently for the annoying piece of existence to return to his rest.

~~~~

Castiel stared out, trying to discern anything in the veil of black that surrounded him. He had woke to his name being called, of that he was certain, but he could not see the owner of the quiet voice. He pushed himself off the strange, indistinct ground, giving it and its complementary surroundings an appraising and confused look. Strange. He’d never seen a realm like this. He stood up at full height, and called out into the tenebrous world.

“Hello?!”

Not even an echo answered him. He wandered forwards, his footsteps obscured in silence as he looked to and fro. 

“Hello? Is there anyone here?!” he shouted, tilted his head up to see if anything hung above in what he deemed to be this realm’s sky.

All that greeted him was more of the same nothing. He flicked his eyes back down and glanced around, allowing his confusion to overwhelm him. He couldn’t recall how he’d got here. All he could remember was the feeling of burning, of a fire eating away at his wings.

...That could not be right. He could feel them, sitting tight across his back. He shifted them from their position and brought them forward to analyse whatever damage had occurred to them. What he saw, however, was completely unexpected.

His wings, having been frail and tattered in the years following the Fall, were in perfect condition. The feathers were pristine, a perfect black not tarnished even by the inescapable taint of Hell that had coated them since Dean’s resurrection. They glowed with an pale ethereal blue, allowing the dark appendages to shimmer beautifully in contrast to the lifeless black of his surroundings. He flicked his wings forward, and he felt the gentle woosh of air they made, proving that they were not an illusion. 

Castiel stared at his renewed wings with an uncertain frown. That shouldn’t be possible. His wings had been damaged beyond even what his grace could repair. He’d accepted that, and he had grown use to the frail wings that had become a part of him, tending, more often than not, to ignore them. But now, they were restored, complete and as perfect as they had been when he was first created. He knew he should be delighted, but all he felt was apprehension. What could have done this? More importantly, why? If not God, then something immensely powerful. He needed to remember.

He scrunched his eyes tight, looking inwards, tracing back through his memories, attempting to dissect them to determine what had happened.

The Alternate Universe flashed into his mind, and he sorted through the fuzzy images of that dreary gray dystopia winged with red lightning and ultimate devastation. He remembered meeting the alternative Bobby, and seeing Earth as it would have been if the Winchesters had never been born. He remembered them planning on trapping Lucifer there, and then him racing towards the Devil, angel blade held firm in his hand as he prepped it for a futile attack. He remembered passing through the tear after leaving his blade embedded in Lucifer’s stomach, seeing Sam and Dean smile gratefully that he’d returned unharmed. 

But then….oh. 

Castiel peered down to his chest, and pulled his shirt away, exposing the skin above his heart. He frowned, brows falling heavily as he eyed the undamaged flesh. He prodded it perplexedly. The fatal wound was gone. His skin was as undamaged as his wings. It seemed he had been restored.

But he knew, deep down in his heart, that it was not because he was healed. No angel could come back from being stabbed fatally by an angel blade. It was final, irreversible. He would be no exception, unless some intervention by God occurred, which was a incredibly unlikely, given God’s current absence from Earth. Castiel knew this time was unlike the other times he had died. Those deaths had never sent him to such a realm as the one that now contained him. The moment that blade had plunged into his grace, he had perished, truly as he’d never done before, and he had not been brought back.

Well, then, that explained a few things. Like his repaired wings, and the void that encompassed everything around him. Wonderful, he thought bitterly. Killed by Lucifer. Again. Last time in order to protect the world, this time to prote-

Castiel froze, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Jack.”

Castiel swiveled his head around fretfully, his search for an exit in the dark renewed at the thought of the young nephilim. He needed to get back to Jack. He was the child’s guardian; Kelly had trusted him to be her son’s carer, to lead him away from evil. She’d counted on him to protect Jack from others who wished to do him harm, and to protect him from himself.

Castiel stomped forward, staring determinedly in every direction to find some tear, some opening that would lead him back to Jack. Despite their renewed state, his wings sat useless on his back. There couldn’t help him traverse a world he did not know, and they certainly weren’t capable of interdimensional travel from a realm of death to a realm of life. This, however, did not break his resolve. It was essential that he returned to Jack.

To Dean, to Sam, to Mary. To his family.

The angel treaded through the realm for a indistinct amount of time, for there was no sun or moon to signal the passing of time. Castiel could not tire physically, and if he stronger in will, he could have remained at his ravenous search for eons. 

But after so many years of fighting, and of failing, his wearied heart could not remain as persistent as his untiring body, and he sagged to the dark ground with a hung head after what seemed days of scouring the unending and unchanging realm of nothing. There was no exit, no way out. There was absolutely no sign of a way back to Jack and the Winchesters. The realm was an endless cage that had no doors. Castiel didn’t need chains around his limbs to know he was trapped.

He released a tired sigh as he kneeled upon the ground, staring forward and seeing nothing. Nothing seemed to be his only companion now. And a terrible one at that. It possessed no reprieve from itself. There was nobody he could see that sheltered in the darkness, and Castiel was alone with the unyielding and stifling emptiness. He had eternity to grow used to it, but right now, the very sight of it tore at his heart, for it yearned for the company of existence, of Creation. 

He thought death would be the final act of penance for him, the end to his struggles. All it seemed to have done this time however was take away everything else that had stopped him from ending his life sooner. The Winchesters, humanity, the world. And the duty he’d taken upon caring for Jack, that had renewed his faith. He’d had a purpose. Now, he felt that faith slipping away once more. A horrid thought crossed his mind as he thought of the young nephilim. It seemed Castiel had, in a twisted way, found the world that Jack had shown him: a world without hunger and fear and hate and suffering. None of those could exist if nothingness was the only thing that existed. Castiel had found paradise, a world purged of humanity’s vices, and he hated it. He hated it fervently. He’d choose the Earth and it’s flawed inhabitants anyday. 

He sighed in defeat. Maybe he deserved this. Maybe here he could stop making mistakes, stop failing Heaven, Earth, the Winchesters, everyone. This realm, twisted paradise though it was, could keep him from hurting anyone else. All his deaths had been leading to this. This was where he was meant to be, it seemed. Castiel felt his eyelids become heavy as the idea poisoned his grace. Yes, maybe he should just….end. Finish the prolonged story. It'd gone on long enough. His head began to bow towards the ground as weariness spread throughout his body.

“Castiel.”

The angel seized up at the sudden voice, eyelids snapping open. He hadn’t heard another voice for so long. He flicked his head up with wide desperate eyes, praying that he wasn’t imagining it. For the first time in a long time, it wasn't nothingness that met his eyes.

A teenage boy sat cross legged on the ground before him, body translucent and flickering like a gentle flame. The boy’s hair was a shade of brown, brushed forward to cover a portion of his forehead. It didn’t hide his eyes, which were scrunched up tight in concentration, his limbs stiff with focus. Castiel stared at the apparition, unsure if it was real or a product of his desire to return to humankind and companionship.

“Castiel,” the boy repeated eloquently, and with a serious tone. 

Castiel stared, brow furrowing as he observed the boy. A golden glow exuded from his faded skin, and Castiel could feel the waves of power that accompanied the warm colour. He recognised that power, and he blinked in shock.

“Jack?” he asked uncertainly, eyes tracking across the teenager. This was Jack? No, no, it couldn’t be. He should still be an infant. Castiel felt a sick feeling permeate in his grace. How long had he been stuck here in this realm?

The boy’s eyes snapped open, rims of burning gold shining in his eyes as he focused on Castiel. A smile broke out of his face, pure ecstasy upon hearing the angel speak.

“Father!”

Castiel quirked his head to the side. Father? He wasn't able to answer, still shocked by the nephilim’s sudden appearance. 

Jack twitched excitedly as he watched Castiel with curious and eager eyes, his smile widening even further.  
“Oh Father, I'm so glad to see you.”

Castiel frowned, distressed blue eyes roving across the nephilim.  
“Jack, how….how are you here?”

“Well,” Jack began, “Sam and Dean-”

“You’re with the Winchesters?” Castiel interrupted hastily. Jack nodded. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. Jack was with Sam and Dean, not Lucifer. A piece of hope slithered into his heart. Jack would be alright in their hands. Ardent curiosity sparked in Castiel at the thought of his family. “Are they okay?”

Jack frowned.  
“Uh, I think so? I’m not sure what okay is for the Winchesters. Dean….he’s hurting. He and Sam keep arguing….about me. About what should be done with me. And about what happened to you. That’s why I reached out.”

“The voice. That was you,” Castiel stated, recalling how he had woken. 

Jack nodded again.  
“Yes. But I didn’t see you, and I was unsure if you heard me, so I thought that if I tried harder, I could talk to you. And it worked, Father! Sam and Dean will be so pleased. They’ve missed you so much!”

Castiel stared into Jack’s piercing gold eyes, noticing the faint wrinkles of concentration on the boy’s face. The young nephilim looked pained by the exertion of his power. Despite this, he appeared genuinely happy to see...his father?

“Jack. Why do you call me Father?” Castiel asked kindly. 

“Because I chose you to be, Castiel. You will protect me,” Jack answered solemnly. “You will guide me from evil.”

Castiel looked at Jack in surprise, seeing the boy’s doting eyes watch him with utmost awe and joy. Kelly had said her child had chosen him. He believed she meant to be merely as a protector. But as a father? Castiel felt his heart unexpectedly flutter with happiness at the thought. It felt….right. He’d felt solicitous of the child before he’d been born, and he’d been aware that there had been a bond that existed between them. Now, though, having Jack before him, he felt it become exacerbated, and in that moment, Castiel swore he would protect Jack for as long as he was capable. 

He stared into Jack’s eyes, letting his newfound affection bleed through. Jack smiled endearingly, and Castiel felt a strong longing to hug the boy and never let go. But he couldn’t. Jack wasn’t actually here, just an projection, an apparition. The darkness still surrounded him, and tinted Jack’s translucent form with a shade of black. Castiel felt his joy perish. No matter how much he yearned to adopt the role Jack has given to him, he was trapped in this empty world, unable to be the father Jack wished him to be.

He wilted as he gave Jack a sad smile.  
“I’m not sure I’m capable of that, given my current predicament…..I’m sorry.”

Jack sighed, his whole body deflating.  
“It’s not your fault. The Winchesters, however flawed they are, are reasonable guardians. But I wanted-” Jack shook his head forcefully, golden eyes planting themselves determinedly on Castiel, “….I needed to meet you.”

Castiel went to speak, but Jack flickered violently before him, his visage fading greatly. Worry flared in Castiel’s grace, and he pushed himself off the ground and hurried over to Jack. His hand hovered over the nephilim’s shoulder, mouth agape as concern suffocated him. Jack’s eyes fell shut, and scrunched up in extreme focus. He continued to flicker.

“Jack?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Castiel asked frantically.

Jack didn’t seem to hear him, and when he finally replied it was to a question he had not asked.  
“I’m speaking to Castiel.”

Jack stopped flickering, but he was faded, almost indistinguishable from the darkness. He looked like a ghost, and Castiel could do nothing to get the boy’s attention, his hand brushing through the apparition ineffectively. He gave up on that endeavour, and held his hand to Jack’s cheek, unable to feel the nephilim’s warmth, his soul. All he felt was nothing, and yet, Castiel couldn’t pull his hand away. 

“Jack. Please, speak to me,” he pleaded imploringly. 

“No, I’m not lying,” Jack said firmly to his unseen companion, Castiel hearing only half of the conversation. “No, no, he’s not alive but-......yes, I understand….”

Jack’s dejected voice fell away, and his body disappeared into nothingness, leaving Castiel alone. He stared at where Jack had been, his hand raised still, now hovering against only the emptiness. It fell to his side, and he sunk to the ground despondently. He stared at the place Jack had been, hoping the boy would return. He needed more time. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. But, moments passed, and Jack did not reappear, leaving Castiel with an unfinished conversation. He slumped, his wings hanging dead at his sides, feeling the nothing once again replace the piece of life that had existed fleetingly as a companion for the lonely angel. Their bond endured, but the fantasy that they could remain together lay in tatters. Castiel was stuck in a world away from Jack, away from the Winchesters. He was all but a memory now, eventually to be forgotten as the darkness stole him away. 

And yet, a small glimmer of hope flickered in his heart, something this dark world had slowly been eating away at now flourishing once more. Jack was okay. He was good. He was all Castiel had hoped and more. He seemed untainted by his true father’s evil. That meant Lucifer was trapped in the Alternate Universe, unable to corrupt his son’s soul. Castiel smiled faintly, pleased his death hadn’t been for naught. Sam and Dean, they’d be okay too. His family would manage without him, of that he was sure.

Castiel looked to where Jack had been, staring at it with impatient eyes. If Jack could spiritually transverse to this realm, then maybe he could do it again. All Castiel had to do was wait. Maybe he couldn’t be there physically for his foster child, but he could be the guardian he had promised he’d be.

Another voice, however, interrupted his vigilant waiting.

“Oh, wonderful. That nasty little bug is gone. Just you and I once more, so it seems. How de-ligh-ful!”

Castiel froze, and slowly turned around to face the owner of the voice, distinctly not Jack’s, yet incredibly familiar. It had a strange intonation, but he recognised the voice, having known it for some time. His eyes fell upon the figure who had spoken, and he observed them with disbelief. The creature stood with a smug countenance, hands dug into the pockets of their tan trenchcoat. Castiel blinked at them. The sly figure stood near by, yet simultaneously over him. When Castiel found his own face, twisted in a sinister smile upon the figure, he could only stare in utter shock. His doppelganger looked down at him, blue eyes soulless and corrupted. 

Castiel stood up abruptly and retreated away from the creature who had his face, eyeing them warily. They looked at the angel’s cautious movements as if he were an insignificant ant pathetically trying to escape a thunderstorm. The entity strode forward, and their eyes darkened from wicked amusement to scathing contempt. Even still, a smile plagued their lips, and the words they spoke hissed through the perverted grin.

“Now you and I can have a little talk, hmm.”

~~~~~~

Jack stared at the walls of his room, studying the details in the brick for what seemed the thirtieth time this day. Though his eyes wandered across the wall to pick out the flaws, his mind strayed to wondering about the Winchesters. They had left the Men of Letters Bunker for a hunt - something to do with a ghost, Jack recalled - and had yet to return. It had been almost two days, and the young nephilim was running out of things to do. Well, Dean had left chores for him to do, and Sam had left a list of movies and books for him to enjoy, but he’d already completed all of what they’d asked. He hadn’t had much sleep, but he’d crossed off everything on the reasonably short list within the first 36 hours of their leaving. 

Now, he didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t left all that many instructions. He knew he could do whatever he wanted, of course. The Winchesters had taught him about free will, and how his Father, Castiel - they called him Cas, but Jack didn’t feel worthy of using that fond title - had helped them defend it from the likes of Lucifer and Michael. Free will was very important. Jack was aware that it lived in his own heart. It seemed an innate part of humans, so he could only assume the human half of him was what stopped him from going what Dean called ‘dark side’. (Jack knew what that meant now, thanks to the Netflix.) He was glad he had free will.

And yet, he had absolutely no idea of what to do with it. So, here he was, completing the pointless task of searching for chips and stains in the brick wall of his room. Barely a month old and he already knew what boredom felt like. Jack took a moment to ponder if infant children of the same age understood the consequence of inactivity. Possibly not; he would have ask Dean and Sam if they remember boredom at that young an age. Thinking of them made him wish that time would move faster. He hoped they’d return soon. Being alone, it didn’t feel right. He’d always had someone there. His mother and Castiel protected him whilst he was being created, before both were replaced by the Winchester brothers. He wasn’t sure he liked it, being without someone to watch over him. It was a new concept to him.

Then again, much of the world held concepts he had yet to discover and comprehend. He did know some things though: death, rejection, chocolate, humanity, evil, lying, joy, love, anger, hatred. That was very little of what he knew existed in the world around him. When Dean and Sam returned, he would have to ask them more about what lay outside the Bunker walls. Maybe moreso Sam - Jack had a feeling Dean wouldn’t inform him of the nicer qualities of humanity. Jack knew the world had been an unkind place to Dean, and also to Sam. They just handled it differently.

He wondered what Castiel would have told him about. From what he knew of the angel, Jack felt that Castiel would probably have told him about the values he had seen in humanity that led him to chose Earth and the Winchesters over Heaven. Jack wished he could listen to his father speak affectionately of humankind, and teach him of their flaws and virtues. But most of all, he wanted Castiel to be here. Jack sighed sorrowfully. Their meeting, abrupt as it was, had told Jack very little of his father. He wished Dean hadn’t interrupted, but it wasn’t the hunter’s fault. He heard Jack yell ‘Father’, so he’d had cause for concern. As it was, the intrusion had left Jack without a goodbye. And, despite how hard he tried, he could not reopen the connection. A potent and powerful force blocked him for recreating the connection. It’d been almost two weeks, and Jack was starting to believe it was a one time event. Castiel, for a moment, had existed - looking at him with a devoted fondness he’d yet to see in Sam and Dean - but then, he’d been gone. Their meeting had ended, as it most inevitably had to. Castiel was dead, and there was no changing that. Jack’s sole conversation with the fallen angel, though not enough - never to be enough - would have to do. Just as his meeting with his ‘mother’ would have to be.

He continued staring at the brick wall, now, though, with eyes burdened by melancholy, as images of those he’d lost before he got to know them flitted in his mind. Soon, even the bricks were forgotten, and all he saw was everyone he’d sent to die.

~~~~~

Castiel woke with a start, taking in a deep and sharp breath. He blinked as yellow filtered into his view, and the aroma of wild berries and hay flooded his nose. Waves of grass danced before him, swaying effortlessly in a light wind. He watched it with astonished eyes. It was overwhelming to see something so colourful, and the beautiful violation of his senses overtook him. He rolled onto his back numbly, and pushed himself off the warm ground. He felt the hum of Creation all around him, in the ground, in the air, in the distant birds that trilled joyfully. He felt the vibrancy of existence thrive around him, quietly witnessing his return.

He stood in the field of yellowed grass, breathing in the world. He paused, tilting his head down to look at his body. He tugged the trenchcoat away so to study his chest for any sign of Lucifer’s wound. No blood stained the white of his shirt, nor did a wound exist on his chest when he pulled down the collar. He noticed absentmindedly that alteration of his tie and his coat to the past reincarnation. He disregarded it, for it was not as important as the world that flourished around him. He stared towards the welcoming sun, its comforting rays coating his skin - now entirely and ultimately his - with affection, glad of his return. He closed his eyes and soaked it in, letting out a breath he felt he’d been holding for eons. He felt lighter than he had in years, like the burden that had trapped him so long had been left behind in The Empty. He savoured the feeling, scared it would vanish.

He had been set free from the emptiness. He was back on Earth. Beautiful, colourful, lively Earth. His wings twitched behind him, eager to soar in the wild winds of the cosmos and the sky. He knew soon he would satisfy that innate desire for flight that existed within him and return to the places in the Universe he had missed so much. Now though, a more important matter existed.

He needed to see Jack and the Winchesters.

Castiel unfurled his wings, feeling the primaries touch the wind eagerly as he raised them, ready to take flight. He thought of the Bunker, the place he’d come to think of home, and let his wings guide him to the place that held those he loved the most.

~~~~

Jack tensed when the sound of distant and forceful knocking interrupted his dark thoughts. It was coming from the Bunker entrance. The Winchesters must have returned. He felt his mood lighten, happy that he would now have company to ward off the thoughts and images that haunted him. He jumped off the bed and went to enter the hallway and run to open the main door, before pausing. The Winchesters wouldn’t knock. They had a key. It would be a pointless endeavour to knock when they were capable of opening the door.

Jack shuffled on his feet fretfully, unsure if he should check just in case it was the Winchester asking for reentry into their abode, or remain in his room and be quiet, hoping the possible intruder would eventually leave, believing the Bunker to be empty.

Some strange part of Jack’s angelic soul decided to ignore the caution that caused him to hesitate, and drag him towards the door of the Bunker. He didn’t question it, feeling like this was what he was meant to do. He trailed down the halls, the banging getting louder as he approached its origin. When the staircase came into view, Jack strayed to the map table, and snatched up one of the giant compasses that littered the surface. He knew it was a pathetic weapon, but Dean still didn’t trust him enough to provide him with a gun, or tell him where they were kept. Sam, too, seemed hesitant to give Jack a weapon of that nature, but Jack believed that to be more so benevolent concern than distrust. Then again, he was a nephilim with extreme power at his disposal, so a physical weapon was pointless. Countering that argument, however, was the fact he wasn’t exactly very good at harnessing said power. So, whilst silly, the compass was his best form of defence. 

Compass gripped tight in hand, he stepped carefully up the stairs, keeping his movements as quiet as possible. He frowned when he heard a voice begin calling. Though muffled by the thick door of the Bunker, Jack found it to be incredibly familiar.

“Dean! Sam! Hello?! Mary! Jack!” the gruff voice called.

Jack perked up at his own name. The compass lowered in his hand before he realised he had done so, and by the time he’d reach the door, the weapon had been all but forgotten. Jack stared at the Bunker’s entrance with wide eyes, uncertain if he was mishearing things. But no, the voice, inexplicably, unbelievably, was the very person who had haunted his mind since his birth, had plagued the Winchesters' hearts, and been taken from all of them by the very power that had created Jack in the first place.

Jack pulled the door wide open, feeling his power surge, so that the door swung open with a force a person of his frame would not be capable of achieving. The door screeched loudly in protest as it gaped wide open, but neither Jack or the man who stood before him reacted to it, to engrossed in each other to care. The clatter of the compass falling upon the metal ground was heard by deaf ears as well, and it lay useless of the floor, its intended purpose forgotten.

Jack stared into blue eyes, shining with the same joy he knew lived in his own. His mouth twitched as happiness overwhelmed him, and he took in a excited breath. The man gave him a warm smile, and Jack could no longer remain silent, the name falling easily from his mouth.

“Castiel.”

~~~~

Castiel nodded his head slightly at the boy’s utterance, still too overtaken himself to speak. Jack’s smile was beautiful, and Castiel could not help but see Kelly in it, just as he could her in his eyes, and his hair, and his soul. Castiel could see nothing of Lucifer in the child’s features, or in his heart. None of the archangel’s darkness hindered the teenager’s being. Jack was like the sun: though Castiel could see the danger in his untamable power, the good outweighed the bad. Jack was warmth, comfort, life, and Castiel couldn’t help but smile when the child - his child - looked at him with such happiness that Castiel had only seen on rare occasions from Sam and Dean.

Jack beamed in utter delight, before, with an urgency of a child who had been denied their favourite toy for some time, he pulled Castiel towards him and wrapped his arms tightly around the angel’s body. Castiel blinked in surprise, before he let his arms settle around the nephilim. Castiel sunk into the hug, as did Jack, almost as if both of them were dependent on staying upright, too scared to let go in case they collapsed. The hug was desperate yet gentle, and neither were willing to let go. 

So, they didn’t. Minutes passed, and Jack and Castiel remained in the embrace that had been destined for the two beings since their bond was created. It burned in delight for finally have being truly united for the first time, and Jack and Castiel, so intricately connected through the bond, felt warmth flood through the veins now their individual lonelinesses had been pacified by their meeting.

Castiel, with immense difficulty, managed to tug himself away from Jack. His grace jittered with reluctance, a small part of it eagerly suggesting for him to return to the hug. He ignored that part as best as he could, satisfying it by leaving his hands upon Jack’s shoulders. Jack, it seemed, was still completely overwhelmed, teary eyes darting all across Castiel, studying him, picking every detail so he’d never forget. Castiel recognised the action, having done it many times himself. He smiled again, and finally managed to speak.

“Hello Jack,” he said quietly.

Jack met Castiel’s eyes, and stared in awe.

“You’re alive,” Jack stated. He quirked his head, a expression of curiosity forming on his face. “How?”

“Thanks to you. You woke me up. The Empty was not pleased with that, and so they returned me here,” the angel answered. Jack’s face lit up with surprise.

“I….my power helped you?”

“Yes, and I’m immensely grateful to you.”

Jack’s lips trembled as he smiled. Castiel pressed his forehead to Jack’s, sending him warm thoughts of love and thankfulness. Jack inhaled a quick breath of bewilderment, confused by the gesture. The perplexment passed, however, and he leaned into the touch, humming in content. Jack seemed surprised by the reciprocated affection, and Castiel drew back, giving Jack a meaningful look.

“How have the Winchesters been treating you? Speaking of the Winchesters, where are they,” Castiel asked, finally noting the quietness of the Bunker behind Jack, and the lack of arrival by the two hunters.

“They are on a hunt. I’m not certain to when they’ll return. To answer your first question...well, they have become better since we last spoke, “ Jack began. He gave a bitter smile that Castiel felt unbefitting of such as young child. “Dean doesn’t want to kill me anymore.”

Castiel’s smile fell dramatically into a irritated scowl. Castiel wasn’t well versed in children, but that seemed unlikely the right route to take. Castiel shook his head.  
“I will have a word about that with him. But, I’m glad he had since changed his mind. Are you being looked after well? They haven’t been mistreating you, have they?”

“No, they treat me kindly, if a little cautiously. I am well and healthy, and they don’t force me to do anything I would not wish to do." He gave a happy grin. "I like them.”

Castiel nodded, glad that Jack wasn’t feeling trapped or unsafe. He put his hand in Jack’s, and led the boy down the steps. They reached the map table, and Castiel looked to North America, wondering where Sam and Dean were right now. If he knew, maybe he could fly to them. He looked to Jack.

“Do you have a phone I can use to call the brothers?”

“No. They have yet to give me one. I believe they are acquiring one for me whilst on the hunt.”

“Okay. Is Mary here, perhaps?”

Jack paused suddenly, and Castiel watched uncertainty flicker across the nephilim’s face. Castiel quirked his head, awaiting the boy’s answer. Jack frowned, casting his eyes away in discomfort.

“Mary is…..Mary is stuck in the Alternate World. With Lucifer.”

Castiel felt his wings droop behind him sorrowfully, his heart doing much the same thing. Mary was most certainly dead then. Lucifer was not one to let his enemies escape unharmed. Castiel felt his heart ache in sympathy for the Winchester brothers: to have your mother back, just to lose her again….it would be tearing them apart. And, he himself felt a small piece of him wilt in sadness. He hadn’t known Mary well, but she and him had formed a mutual respect for each other, and in a way, a friendship. He was saddened to lose her. 

He gave Jack a melancholy smile, seeing the boy’s soul flare with emotions he was familiar with.  
“It’s not your fault, you know.”

Jack flinched in shock, his eyes darting back to look up at Castiel, guilt and self-hatred raging in them. Castiel knew those eyes like they were his own, for he’d seen them in the mirror all too many times. Jack was too young to wear such weight. Jack shook his head.

“I..I opened the world. I got the demon king killed, I got Mary killed. I...I got you killed, Castiel! I’m a murderer.”

~~~~~~

Jack pushed himself away from Castiel and wandered to the other side of the room, wrapping his arms around himself. He stared at the brick wall of the room, counting the cracks to distract himself. He’d been so happy to see Castiel, but now, his thoughts led him through all his recent mistakes, and he remembered the reason Castiel had not been with him. It was all because of him. The others who were lost, that was his fault too. He was a monster. Castiel being here did not change that. Nothing could change that. He was programmed to do wrong no matter what he did.

A hand landed on his shoulder softly, and Jack jumped, turning to see Castiel watching him with concerned eyes.

“We’ve all done wrong, Jack,” Castiel said soothingly, turning the nephilim to face him. The angel scowled self-deprecatingly, and took a deep, steadying breath before he continued. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Jack - too much to count at this point - and it’s taken a long time for me to accept that I can’t change what I’ve done. Penance, even, could not fulfil the guilt that overtook me. And that guilt often led me to make even more mistakes. It was a never ending cycle. I couldn’t stop it. I just….I just kept doing the wrong thing. But then you came along, and I finally found a way to do something right in this world.

“I think I’ve finally managed to escape the guilt that controlled me, but a trail of destruction exists still because of my mistakes. That won’t go away. It won’t ever, but if I let myself think too much about it, then I’ll fall right back into that cycle of guilt. It took me some time to understand that making mistakes is natural, even for angels. I know now I’m as flawed as humans are.”

Jack went to nod, understanding the angel’s intended message, but Castiel’s continued with determination, eyes flaring with conviction to his words.  
“But Jack, unlike me, you did nothing wrong. You don’t deserve this guilt you're harbouring. You had no control over what happened. Crowley, from what I saw, sacrificed himself for the greater good and I-...well, I guess I was just being reckless. That is on me. Mary….I’m not certain what happened to her, but I’m sure that whatever occurred, it was not your fault in any way. You should not place blame on yourself.”

“But Dean-”

Castiel shook his head sharply.  
“Dean lets his emotions control him. Sometimes he says things that he doesn’t necessarily mean. He gets lost in grief. He lashes out. I’ve known him long enough to know you have to be patient with him. His words should not condemn you. You are, and will alway be, innocent in relation to what happened on the night of your birth.”

Jack sighed. Castiel’s words were so sincere. He wanted to believe him. One person, however, had certainly been affected adversely by him, and he struggled to bring her up. His heart still hurt when he thought of her.  
“And….and my mother?”

Castiel looked down at Jack with sorrowful eyes.  
“An unfortunate, yet sadly inevitable incident. I’m certain your mother doesn’t think any less of you due to the tragic circumstances of your birth. I believe she is watching over you from Heaven, glad that her sacrifice allowed for your existence. She and I knew what was to come, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it. But I’m here now.”

Jack couldn’t speak, overwhelmed by his father’s words. Castiel looked unaffected by the distrust and wariness that hindered Sam and Dean’s relationship with him. Jack took a rattling breath, absorbing Castiel’s words. After all that he’d caused, the angel wholeheartedly believed him to be innocent. Jack felt his guilt waver, Castiel warming the coldness that had formed in his soul. It still remained, of course, as it always would. Mary and Kelly were still gone, and it’d take some time for him to overcome the grief of losing his own mother, and the accountability of causing the Winchester brothers to lose theirs. But, right now, he felt less burdened, and it was wonderful. 

Wearily, he fell into Castiel’s chest, breathing in the angel’s flowery, alpine smell. Warm arms pulled him in closer, and Jack sighed in relief. This is the relationship he’d been missing, the love both the Winchester’s struggled to show him. Castiel was utterly indifferent to his uncontrollable, terrible power, and Jack felt his heart swell in complete fondness to his guardian angel. 

“Thank you...Cas.”

~~~~~~~~~

A day passed without the Winchesters returning, and Castiel spent the hours with Jack, caring for the young nephilim. The angel, though completely inexperienced in rearing children, somehow fit like a glove in relation to Jack. Maybe it was the devotion they shared for each other, or the earnest bond that connected them, that allowed the two beings to pass the time with such ease. Castiel, having no phone on his person, and Jack having no phone himself, waited patiently for the return of Sam and Dean, passing the remainder of the day away with fun activities. They played some of the board games that lived in the Bunker, and Castiel taught Jack how to play ‘I’m Sorry’. Castiel also showed him all the books on nephilim so that Jack could read them if he wished. They conversed about how their last few weeks had been. Castiel, of course, hadn’t much to tell, but Jack cheerily filled the conversation by telling him all the things he’d discovered, like the wonder that was nougat.

Castiel found out that Jack shared his love for Netflix, and the two whiled away the rest of the afternoon by watching the movies and shows available to them on the streaming service. Castiel couldn’t help but watch Jack’s delighted gaze as he observed the scenes on the TV screen with passionate curiosity. Jack didn’t seem to mind the watchful eye of his foster father, too overjoyed to care.

When Jack fell asleep during a TV series about warriors descended from angels, Castiel lingered, watching over him. He covered the boy with his wing, circling the appendage around the sleeping figure. He remained there for some time, vigilantly protecting Jack from any harm that could befall him. Hours passed like this before Castiel reluctantly left, so to reorder the Bunker that had become messy in his absence. He kept his senses focused on Jack, though, as he returned books to their shelves and threw out all of the numerous empty beer bottles that hid amongst the Bunker like Easter eggs. He hummed in content when he felt Jack wake from a restful sleep. He pretended to be immersed in his menial task as he listened to Jack wander through the Bunker to where he was.

Castiel turned when Jack entered the room, yawning quietly. Jack smiled blearily at the angel, happy to see him, and Castiel returned the sentiment. Jack ambled towards him and gave the trenchcoated angel a gentle hug.

“Good morning, Jack,” Castiel said, returning the embrace. Jack nuzzled into Castiel’s chest.

“You watched over me,” he stated certainly.

Castiel canted his head.  
“You felt that?”

Jack nodded.  
“I felt your wings cradle me in my sleep, and your heart guard me even when you left.”

Castiel smiled, and brushed a hand soothingly through Jack’s hair.  
“I will always watch over you. I promised your mother that I would protect you with my life.”

Jack’s smile faltered, and he withdrew his head from Castiel’s chest, looking up with pained eyes.  
“Please don’t promise that.....I’m not worth it.”

Castiel’s voice didn’t waver at all as he spoke with utter certitude.  
“You are.”

Jack stared at him in shock, and Castiel watched patiently as gratitude eventually replaced the confusion. Jack went to speak, but the grating sound of the Bunker door opening interrupted them. 

Jack and Castiel shared a look, knowing that signalled the return of the wayward Winchester brothers. Jack raced towards the staircase, leaving Castiel in the library. He decided it best to remain there, so not to startle the Winchesters. He smiled when he saw the two humans he cared so much for enter the Bunker, looking a little worse for wear, but overall undamaged. 

“Stupid ghosts. Sam, no more ghosts for a while, ‘kay,” he heard Dean muttered petulantly.

“Agreed,” Sam replied, sounded slightly amused by his brother’s dramatics.

“Sam, Dean!” Jack yelled as he dashed up the stairs. “You’re back!”

“Hey, kiddo. Didn’t destroy the Bunker while we were gone, it seems. Kudos to you, kid,” Dean said not unkindly. He gave Jack a vague smile, one that suggested he didn’t really mean the words he said.

“Dean,” Sam said longsufferingly. He gave Jack a more fond look. “You have fun while we were gone?”

Even from the library, Castiel could see the sneaky smile that flashed across Jack’s face.  
“Oh, yes. Very much so.”

Dean frowned, and he assessed the nephilim’s face.  
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

Sam’s head tilted, long hair swaying with the movement. He had noticed Jack’s expression as well.  
“Jack, did something happen?”

Jack beamed, and looked to the library, right at Castiel.  
“Yes. The very best thing.”

Dean and Sam followed Jack’s gaze. Their eyes, at first swarming with wariness, snapped to utter shock the moment they saw Castiel. They visibly tensed, and their eyes fell wide open, just as their mouths did. The duffel in Sam’s hand fell with a loud clank, but no one in the room acted as if they’d noticed.

Castiel stepped towards the war room, and gave both of the Winchesters a warm look.

“Hello Dean, Sam.”

“C-cas?” Dean managed to splutter, eyes roving across Castiel as if afraid he was some trick.

Castiel nodded slowly. They had every right to be shocked, so he waited patiently for them to comprehend his return.

It was Sam who managed to overcome his shock first, and he treaded down the stairs numbly and approached Castiel, giving him a searching look. He went to touch Castiel’s shoulder, but his hand darted back, seeming fearful that touch would break the illusion.

“Sam, it’s good to see you again,” Castiel commented, watching Sam puzzle through all his emotions.

“Are you real?” was Sam’s first question.

Castiel’s mouth twitched. The Winchesters had gone through enough to be wary of his sudden return. He had known they were to be suspicious. He didn’t answer, instead letting the shadows of his wings appear. He watched the brothers and Jack observe them, trailing across the untattered shadows with a jumble of emotions. The wings faded away from human view, and he stared at Sam, allowing the hunter to see the lingering glow of his eyes, proving his angelic identity.

“How….?” Sam began, before trailing off, turning his head to give a look to Dean, who was stuck staring at Castiel dumbly from a distance. 

“Jack helped me escape from the Empty. It is because of him that I was capable of returning here,” Castiel stated, answering Sam’s unfinished question.

Sam and Dean both looked to Jack, who shuffled nervously under their gazes. Castiel suspected that the nephilim felt uncomfortable. He’d done something that seemed impossible, and now the boys were eyeing him with awe and shock.

“You did?” Dean asked with a quiet voice. He paused, as a sudden realisation visibly struck him. “That...that day, you really were speaking to Cas, weren’t you? And...and you brought him back?”

Jack bit his lip and looked down, before nodding his head shakily. 

Dean stared at the young boy. Not with an expression of hate, or distrust, but a look of utter and complete gratitude. He and Sam turned to Castiel, and in moments, all hesitation had been forgotten, and they raced towards Castiel, each giving him a desperate hug that almost caused him to topple backwards.

Castiel let his arms wrap around the two hunters, dutifully ignoring their happy sobs. 

“Cas, I’m so glad you’re back, man,” Dean said affectionately.

“As am I.”

Castiel felt Jack join the hug.  
“I’m so happy you’re here as well.”

“Yeah,” Sam added softly. “We’re not the same without you, Cas.”

Castiel felt his heart swell with overwhelming joy. He had his family. Nothing, not even the Empty, had been able to tear it apart. He melted into their hug, feeling immensely content at hearing the steady beats of their hearts and the rhythm of their breaths, deepened by their bittersweet happiness. The hug, just as Castiel and Jack’s had been, did not break easily. The four figures remained entwined, enjoying this moment of peace and sanctuary.

The world spanned on perpetually in every direction, an expanse filled with dangers they had yet to face, and lives that were to be saved. Right now though, all Castiel cared about was the three people he loved the most, holding him tight and never willing to let go. Wings folded around the three figures, and the angel smiled.

He was well and truly home.


End file.
